A BAD Experience

Last night I attended THE monthly women's party (Babes Around Denver), which I attend about once a quarter since I have other things to do. Yeah, right. Fact is, the older I get the less energy I have for all things partying. Shall we enumerate them?

First there's the drinking. I've turned into a one or two drink kinda gal. The thing is, the buzz isn't what it used to be, but the hangover still happens. And who needs that? Besides that, the drink prices are ridiculously high these days and that's on top of the door charge and the price of gas to get there. Yeah, okay, I'm cheapskate (I think I might have mentioned that before).

Second, there's the music. I have a wide range of likes when it comes to music, however the DJ plays less of them as the night wears on. I noticed that the "house" music of a few years ago has given way to predominantly rap music (is this actually music or spoken word diatribes set to music?). This was a party for women, yet there sure seemed to be a lot of misogynistic lyrics pumping out of the speakers (not to mention a lot of F bombs). So, it just makes me feel old, which is really unfair because I do enjoy most of the current top 40 tunes that are not rap and that are highly danceable (but not a word apparently).

Third, there is the late hour until which these parties run. This would not be quite the issue, except they occur on Friday evenings and actually start right after most people's workday at 6pm (happy hour time). As an acquaintance pointed out, she was going to party for EIGHT whole hours (of course she also mentioned that she might be getting a job soon...uh yeah...). I know I could arrive later, but the parking is horrible later in the evening (especially when the event center in the same building is hosting another "special" party...with valet parking taking up all the usual street spaces). And the music is better earlier unless you prefer the misogynistic rap (see above). Of course, I could also just leave after a few hours but that leads into...

Fourth, there are the women themselves. Or shall we say OLDER women. This is where things become rather interesting and kind of disturbing. At 6pm the women are decidedly older. I arrived a bit after 6:30pm. When I walked into the room where they started the party, I was close to the youngest woman there. We're talking GRAY hair and wrinkles everywhere. Unfortunately, I have them too, just less of them (I have seen the future and it's not pretty). I think it sapped my energy just watching (and vaguely worrying). Later, when the party moved into the main club area, someone pointed out a woman on the dance floor (dancing to something that was not quite rap, but close) and stated that the woman was over 70 years old and she's known her for years and years (AGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH). No kidding, she didn't look a day over 60. I know this should make me feel better about growing old. But seriously, on one hand I was relieved about my future partying energy prospects, and on the other hand, a vision of my mom popped into my head (and up on my Treo 700 because I had to see the concept visually) which kinda freaked me out...a bit. You know how they say you should meet your girlfriend's mother if you want to know what she'll probably look like when she's her mother's age? Apply that concept to yourself (or look at your dad if you're a guy). My mom doesn't look the 70 something that she is, and she's fairly active too, but she didn't look like that woman on the dance floor either...

Fifth, there are, in fact, really young women that show up much later (but over 21...barely...I hope). Right in time to remind me that I'm not young anymore. Or hot...like that anyway. What is it about youth? They think they own the place when they strut into the club (I know this, because that's how it was when I was in my 20's and what I observed when a friend actually owned a club when we were in our 30's, because the 20 somethings acted like THEY owned it). Now it's like those of us on the top of the hill don't really exist (I refuse to think I'm over the hill, despite item number four). It takes alot of energy to get noticed by those 20 somethings (and so not worth it). But it is fun to watch them do their thing (drink, flirt, dirty dance, practically have sex on the dance floor, etc.). So many potential observations, so little energy left by the time they arrive.

So in about 3 months, I'll probably try it again. Maybe I'll take that particular Friday off and have a long nap before I go out. I could fortify with some extra caffeine perhaps. Maybe then I'll have enough energy to describe the super femme hot body in a low cut dress with a totally androgynous hairstyle and face dancing with the really heavy set butch in a tie (and apparently really loving it). Or comment on the large number of raunchy young gay boys who showed up around the same time as the 20 something girls and didn't seem to care that it was a women's party. Or maybe share about the rather skeezy yet oddly sexy woman that kept dancing with some equally skeezy gay boy while staring me down...while I was perched above the dance floor (not even sure how that is physically possible). Yeah, catch me sometime when I'm more awake.